


The Temptation

by CatherineS



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1996-03-01
Updated: 1996-03-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 13:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/357363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineS/pseuds/CatherineS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Star One, Servalan has captured that troublemaker Blake. And while she took him for political reasons, there's no reason she can't use him for more pleasurable purposes, is there?) Previously published in the fanzine Straight Blake's 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Temptation

Blake paused for a moment, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He was exhausted and in pain. His flyer had crashed here on Jevron and he was well aware of the local Federation presence. Only a few days ago, he had been with Avalon before heading for one of the new bases that had been set up in the aftermath of the Andromedan War. His flyer had run into a meteor storm and was badly damaged. Jevron was the closest inhabited planet. But the landing had not been a good one. The ship was badly damaged and so was Blake. His shoulder had only just healed after the damage done by Travis. Now **it** ached fiercely and he was sure one or two ribs were  
cracked.

A hand slipped down to press against his ribs as he tried to take shallow breaths so as not to do any more damage. He needed to find somewhere safe to rest. Hell, he needed a medic just as much. Leaning against a tree, he took stock of his surroundings.

Thick forest surrounded him, though he was not foolish enough to think that it would protect him. Heat detectors would pick him up easily at close range. No city dweller would venture out here. The air was cold and damp and it would soon be dark. Blake reached for his blaster, a reassuring solidity. It wouldn't stop a Federation patrol though. His ship's landing would have been noticed, a party sent out for rescue or salvage.

Not for the first time, Blake wished for **_Liberator_** and his crew. Teleport would have been a welcome salvation. His old bracelet was still snug against his wrist, hidden by the loose sleeves of a favourite shirt. With a soft sigh, he straightened up and kept moving westward. Fruitless to wish for what he could no longer have. The nearest city was a short distance westward. His best chance was to lose himself there, maybe buy passage on a ship off-planet, hopefully to a non-Federated world, or one with a large rebel network. If he kept his pace up, he might be there by daybreak.

Several hours later, Blake resigned himself to stopping. With the thick canopy overhead, the faint starlight was simply not enough to see by. His progress was halted for now.

Shivering, he broke off several low-hanging branches, building a sort of roof to shelter under. Crawling inside, he rested his back against the tree. He was so tired. He yawned and tried to distract himself, to stay alert. Maybe he'd be lucky and no one would fly close enough to register body heat. But there was nothing he could do about that. Despite his resolve to keep watch, his eyes eventually drifted shut, his tense features relaxing in sleep.

* * *

Sudden pain burst from his ribs, spiraling through his body. Bright spots danced before his eyes as he clutched his injured ribs. His return to consciousness had been heralded by a shout and a blow to the stomach. He'd dropped the blaster that had been resting loosely in his hands in an unsuccessful attempt to protect his ribs. His dazed eyes had immediately identified his assailants as Federation troopers.

A hand reached out, seizing him by the shoulder and hauling him to his feet. A sinking despair clouded his thoughts. If they didn't already know who he was, they would soon. He gasped at the sharpness of new pain as he staggered to his feet. What had been cracked felt broken now. The pain was incredible and Blake's vision swam. Dimly, he felt more hands, their grip a minor discomfort, and heard voices before he slipped into welcome oblivion.

* * *

Blake awoke to darkness and pain. Blinking his eyes, he raised a hand to his head, the other levering himself into a sitting position. It was damp and cold. Absently, he noticed his shirt was missing. No wonder he felt chilled.

The walls round him were metal, the bench he had lain upon the same material. There were no windows and no light escaped past the faint outline of the door.

Blake sighed and tried to move. He was stiff but nothing seemed to be broken except, perhaps, the ribs. He gasped sharply and subsided back to the bench. There really wasn't much point in moving around when he was in no condition to put up any resistance. By now his captors would have identified their prisoner, would know who he was.

Interrogation? he wondered. He was a bit surprised **it** hadn't started already. At least Avalon and the rest were safe. They had set up a contingency plan shortly after the disaster at Star One. If any member of the rebellion with intimate knowledge of more than one cell was captured or went missing, bases would be abandoned for alternates known only to an individual cell leader.

He was more than a day overdue with no message or distress call. They would assume the worst. The only groups he could betray would be long gone by the time Federation forces broke him and mobilized.

Blake was under no illusions. He would break. An instinctive shiver raced down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Well, he knew what the Federation was capable of. Torture and drugs would break any man in the end. And the days of daring **_Liberator_** rescues were over. Blake hoped they all survived. He had heard rumours that Avon still had her. He glanced down at his wrist, rubbing at the place where his bracelet used to rest.

A burst of light momentarily blinded him. Strong hands seized his arms, jerking him roughly to his feet. Blake pulled back in pain.

"I can hardly escape, can I?"

"Silence." Blake glared back at the guard who had spoken but he followed, albeit slowly. Did this mean they had discovered his identity?

Determined to remain alert to any opportunities, no matter how small, Blake watched the corridors they passed through. Turn left, right, and then they stopped. The door was ever so charmingly labeled "interrogation.'* It opened and he was unceremoniously shoved through. Stumbling, he somehow managed to stay on his feet. There was another man in the room. His interrogator?

"We know who you are, Blake."

Blake remained silent, staring back at the smaller man.

"What happened to your ship?"

"It crashed." Blake prepared himself for a blow, a little surprised when it didn't come. The other man walked round him appraisingly.

"I thought you'd be more impressive, a leader of rebels and all. You're not."

No response.

"What was your destination?"

Silence.

"What was your point of origin?"

"Earth." Blake replied.

This time the blow came swiftly, though not from the interrogator. One of the guards struck him from behind. He stumbled and was struck again, collapsing to his knees. A kick to his already aching ribs had him gasping for breath, nauseated from the vicious agony.

"Foolish." The words were just loud enough to force their way past the haze of pain. "We will learn what we wish to know with or without your cooperation."

Blake shivered, vision still hazy. Arms lifted him once more, then pushed him down into a metal frame. No! his mind screamed at him. Not again! Faint laughter reached his ears as his world dissolved in pain.

* * *

"He is of no value to me dead."

"No, Supreme Commander." The man positively cringed, bringing a smile to Servalan's lips that didn't reach her eyes.

"Your orders were to have him questioned and wait for my arrival, not to kill him in your petty quest for approval. The information you obtained was useless, the bases abandoned." The base commander wilted before her eyes.

Pausing, Servalan stepped closer to the metal pallet, eyes examining the unconscious man. The base commander thought it was rather as if she stripped the man with her gaze. He wondered briefly if the prisoner wouldn't prefer death by torture to whatever she had planned for him.

"Clean him up. Have a medical officer attend him." The Supreme Commander turned to leave. "I require him in good condition, in my quarters, within two days. He will be accompanied by two of my mutoid guards."

"Very well, Supreme Commander."

This time the smile did reach her eyes though the base commander wasn't reassured.

"Very well, indeed."

* * *

Blake woke confused, staring down at himself He had regained consciousness, expecting pain and discomfort. His stomach ached, not surprising as he hadn't eaten in days. But the rest of his body was remarkably pain-free. He was also dressed in a black jumpsuit that hugged his frame, not the tattered remains of his own clothes. He slipped a hand inside the top. His ribs felt fine. A quick look revealed pale skin free of the bruises that had marked it. So he had been fixed up. Why? By now they would know that the information he gave was useless. The logical result should have been his death. Why waste time patching him up?

He stood as the door opened. A public execution would be a mistake, making him into a martyr. The Federation wouldn't want that, so what....

Mutoids! He stepped back instinctively, despite the fact that he was fully aware that he wouldn't have been fixed up to serve as their lunch.

"You will come with us."

The taller one gestured with its gun and Blake had no real choice but to follow. Curiosity and trepidation mixed as he walked between them. The route was unfamiliar and the lift they used took them up several levels. Another few turns and the shorter one pressed a door chime. The door slid open and the three of them went inside. The door slid shut.

"Servalan." Blake stated coldly, a chill invading his heart. He hadn't expected this. No simple execution then. She would have something else in mind, not inclined to personally sully her hands with something so bloody.

"Blake." She acknowledged him with a nod of her exquisitely shaped head. She was reclining on a couch, clad in a long white dress that revealed as much as it concealed. The room itself was decorated entirely in white, a large white bed could be seen on the far side of the suite. He raised an eyebrow. Servalan smiled in response. Not very comforting, he thought.

"I'm pleased to find you looking better than the last time I saw you." Her smile widened at Blake's look of puzzlement.

"Oh, you wouldn't remember. You were unconscious. Pity, the officer responsible has had cause to regret it." Rising to her feet, she came closer. "Are you fully recovered?"

Did her voice hold a hint of real concern? What was she planning that required him in good condition?

"Yes, I feel fine, despite your warm welcome." Cautiously, he glanced back at the mutoids.

"Don't worry. They have orders not to harm you, at least not too much." She smiled and Blake pulled his attention back to her. "I'm here to make you an offer, Blake."

"There's nothing I can tell you that you don't already know."

"Did I say the offer involved information?" Blake's eyebrow rose.

"I'm listening."

"You're a dead man, Blake." She laughed at the anger in his eyes. "The Federation has no intention of letting you rejoin your rebels or of mindwiping you into a model citizen. But I think you could still be useful. Useful to me, at least."

"How? And why should I agree to anything?"

"Well, you don't really have a choice, Blake. I intend to take what I want."

"Which is?"

"You."

Blake's eyes narrowed and he took an involuntary step back. But Servalan followed, a delicate hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. He flinched as her nails scraped against the skin but remained where he was. silent.

"It doesn't excite you, Blake? Being here at my command, to satisfy my desires?"

Blake swallowed hard, his face flushing as he felt his cock stirring. Strong Mutoid arms held his, preventing escape. A hand brushed him, cupping his sex, and he bit back a moan, closing his eyes.

"Yes, I can see that it does."

"Let me go." Blake was glad that his voice didn't tremble.

"Why? We're both enjoying this." Servalan's voice was seductively soft, close, words whispered into his ear. His eyes opened wide.

"No." Angrily, Blake pulled at the arms that held him. "Amuse yourself with someone else. I'm sure you have many volunteers."

"If you don't cooperate, I'll take what I want." Stormy eyes glared down at Servalan as she continued to fondle him. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Blake, since you've had the pleasure of sex."

No response.

"It doesn't matter." She continued her tormenting massage. "You were drugged, you know." Her voice was almost conversational. "It affects the sex drive, increases it, focuses your desires on the person who first arouses you under its influence." Her pleased expression grew at the horror in his eyes. "Soon you'll be quite addicted to me."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to."

Blake inwardly cringed away from the truth of her words. He could feel his body's increasing response. He wanted her, couldn't help wanting her, regardless of what he knew her to be. He struggled against the arms that held him, wanted to be anywhere but with her.

"You can't escape." Blake stopped his futile struggles and stared off over her shoulder, trying to will away the response of his body to her proximity. "But you still want to, don't you? We'*ll have to do something about that." She gestured to the mutoids and they dragged their unwilling captive toward the bed.

Blake struggled to breathe as he was forced face first down onto the bed. His clothes were roughly removed, his flesh crawling at the feeling of vulnerability, of helplessness.

"Don't be too rough, I do so want him to enjoy this." Blake felt a hand on the small of his back, nails scratched lightly down to his buttocks, one finger tracing into the cleft. His body ached with tension, waiting.... The finger was withdrawn.

"Turn him over and tie him. Then leave us. Hands tugged him onto his back, stretching his arms wide, almost to the point of pain, before securing them to the edge of the bed. Naked and totally helpless, still aroused and aching, he glared up at Servalan. The mutoids left the room and she sat beside him, playing with the fine hairs along his upper thigh.

"You seem eager," she mused.

"I seem to have little choice," he snapped.

"Would you prefer a gag?" She asked sweetly, looking pleased when he remained silent. "I thought not." Leaning down, she pressed her mouth to Blake's, tongue slipping out to trace along his tightly closed lips. One hand settled on his chest, brushing a nipple before pinching hard.

A gasp opened Blake's lips, letting Servalan's tongue in. His arms strained at his bonds, he barely felt the pain as he struggled for air, Servalan taking his breath into her own lungs until his vision swam.

"Beautiful, my captive." She whispered, both hands busy at his nipples. His chest arched upwards, his body seeking the sensations his mind recoiled from. His eyes squeezed shut.

Suddenly, the wonderful, tormenting hands were gone. His eyes flew open. Servalan was standing at the foot of the bed, hands at the shoulder clasps of her dress. Her eyes stared deep into his, holding his gaze as her dress slipped to the floor. His eyes dropped then, taking in the loveliness of her body, milky white skin, pubic hair a dark contrast, veiling the pleasure she could give him. The release that his body now desperately craved. She caressed her own breasts, fingering her rosy nipples before drifting lower.

Blake moaned, muscles in his thighs twitching. Impossible that he should crave this, crave Servalan, want her to take him, but he did. "Please."

Her hands stilled and she came closer, kneeling on the bed between his legs.

"Please what?" Blake's eyes closed in shame. He felt her hand on his leg, damp with her own arousal His chest ached. Her hands were both on him now, he could feel her legs pressing against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. A hand cupped his aching balls.

"Yessss." He hissed, as she rolled them, her other hand coming up to encircle his cock. "Not quite yet." A tightness closed round his cock and balls and Blake struggled to see what Servalan had done. A black leather cockring encircled him, restraining him yet again. His head fell back against the bed, as she started to stroke at his cock, circling the head with her thumb. His breathing sounded harsh in his own ears, Servalan's amused laughter bringing rage to the fore.

"Angry, Blake?" She mocked teasingly, tickling at his balls until his eyes closed.

"Don't ..." he whispered. He wanted so desperately to come, for the excitement that was almost pain to end. "You.. .want me to beg?"

"The idea has a certain appeal." The voice was mocking but the gaze that looked down on him was indulgent and Blake dared to hope that subservience was what she craved.

"Please, Servalan." He swallowed, fighting the part of him that wanted to refuse her, going with the long hidden part of him that had always wanted to give in, to let someone else take control. "Take me."

"An order?" Her gaze was firm now and Blake shivered in anticipation.

"A.. .plea, Servalan, please."

"How could I refuse you," Servalan whispered, bending over for a brief kiss before rising up on her knees. She pressed down, taking him in one slow plunge. He cried out as the hot tightness of her body held him, wrapped him within her warmth. Gently at first, she moved, stroking herself on him. Her hands rested on his chest, occasionally tickling at a nipple as she teased him with her rhythm, never letting him get deep enough, never giving him the friction he needed for release. It was an exquisite agony, humiliating and wonderful, exciting and terrifying.

She moaned above him, head tossing as her movements picked up speed. She ground herself against him when suddenly the painful tightness around his genitals was gone. The hands on his chest clenched and Servalan gave a gasped cry as she came, her muscles clenching so hard Blake's climax exploded from him with a choked scream before he fainted.

* * *

"You still believe he can be turned?"

The man sitting in front of her gave the appearance of devoting all his attention to her but Servalan was not fooled. No psychostrategist was unable to handle fewer than a dozen problems at once. This one was the best. Small and slim, with short blond hair and icy blue eyes. Eyes that were regarding her serenely.

"Yes, if there are no mistakes made. He is a complicated man, Supreme Commander."

"Really?"

"The profiles from his psychological evaluation and a review of his actions and rebel activities are quite clear. He is a natural leader, devoted to his belief. But he suffers a great deal of guilt for surviving while his past companions have perished. He blames himself and seeks to escape that guilt and responsibility while feeling more guilty over his desire to escape. He desperately needs to relinquish control to someone in some aspect of his life. To you, in the bedroom, seems an admirable choice. But then again, I have exquisite taste."

A beautiful smile brightened Servalan's face at his words but she was not diverted from her concerns.

"So it is likely that he will slowly come to accept being here, being at my service, and try to offer his assistance?"

"Eventually, yes. He requires an outlet for his desire to help. Give him that outlet and yes, I believe it is quite likely that he will serve your interests."

"Good. That will be all."

"Supreme Commander." He rose, inclined his head, and left.

* * *

Blake awoke alone and unrestrained. He was still in the big bed, covered by a simple sheet. His arms ached and for a moment, he was confused. When realization flooded in, he bowed his head in his hands. He had wanted it. He was free for the first time in his memory.

* * *

Several weeks later, on Earth, Blake sat up in the bed he shared with Servalan. She was already up; there was a council meeting in an hour and she had wanted to talk to several people beforehand. Reaching for a robe, he slipped out of bed and padded over to the computer terminal.

He had been using it for the last two weeks. It was limited access. There had been a smile on Servalan's face when she informed him of that little fact. But it provided a window for his prison. The Federation thought him dead, except for Servalan and her mutoid guards. This time, Servalan had left some of her own notes in an open file. With a cautious glance behind him, Blake opened the file.

It was information about a trade dispute between two of the Outer Worlds. They were part of the Federation but fairly autonomous being so far out from Earth. But now they were appealing to the Federation government for mediation. One planet was largely agricultural, with the additional advantage of large mineral deposits. The other was a more technological world, with a highly advanced manufacturing economy concentrated on computer systems and parts.

Time rushed by as Blake became engrossed in their conflict. It had been too long since he'd had the chance to think about someone else's problems. This one had a definite solution. The question was, would Servalan entertain it? It would stop bloodshed and fighting from cropping up between the two worlds; that was certainly in the Federation's best interests. Blake continued to muse over the question as he closed down the terminal and took a shower. By the time Servalan returned, he had made a decision.

"Servalan." He spoke as soon as she entered their rooms.

"Yes, Blake." She sounded a little distracted and Blake hesitated until she came over to him. "You wanted to say something?"

"The trade dispute in the Outer Worlds." Her eyes widened in surprise. "You left your notes on the terminal."

"I see." Noncommital, much preferable to angry, Blake thought.

"I have a solution." She raised an eyebrow and sat down.

"Go ahead." Blake paced around, outlining his plan When he finished, he sat down beside her.

"Well?" He waited.

"It should work. You're better at this than I thought you'd be. Thank you." Blake felt a rush of elation accompanied by a flood of desire as Servalan leaned close for a kiss. Her hand caressed over his cheek and down his throat, hooking its way into the collar of the jumpsuit he had put on after his shower. Wide brown eyes were watching him expectantly and he felt himself flush, his cock twitching inside the confines of his clothes. He still suffered from the first flush of shame at his body's uncontrollable response and Servalan's pleasure in it

Experimentally, he tightened his hold, pulling Servalan closer, pressing her body tight to his. She accepted his lead this time. Sliding his hands upwards, he gently cupped her face, touching her lips with his. Under increasing pressure, she opened to him, their tongues twisting together. Blake heard himself moan as she pulled back.

The eyes that looked up at him were dark with need. So dangerous yet so desirable, Blake wanted her intensely. It was so rare that she wanted him to lead. He watched avidly as she stood, loosening her dress so that it fell to the floor, puddling at her feet. No undergarments, she stood gloriously naked in front of him. A beautiful white expanse of skin, coloured only by rosy nipples and the dark pelt of hair above and below.

"Don't you think you're a little overdressed? No need to be shy after all we've done," she murmured, her hands working at his clothes. She bared the smooth skin of his chest to the air. Her lips pressed to the base of his throat, lick-kissing before she slipped to the floor, dragging his pants with her. Boots were heeled off along with the pants until Blake was naked too.

"So smooth," Servalan whispered, running her hands over his chest and belly. His erection brushed against her wrist and Blake had to struggle not to crush her to him. Standing here was an agony to his overstressed nerves. Desperate for her, Blake seized her in his arms, mouth claiming her red lips, stealing her breath until they were both hot and panting.

"Bed?" He managed to gasp out. Servalan nodded and they separated, coming together in the centre of the big bed. Blake rolled on top, taking most of his weight on his arms as his mouth descended. Gently at first, he licked at her full breasts. Smiling at her pleasured sighs, he opened his mouth, sucking at each breast in turn. He let teeth and tongue tease her, flicking and nibbling until she was writhing beneath him, legs wrapping around his back, fingers digging into his shoulders. She moaned, fingers pulling at his curls. He raised his head, staring down into lust-filled eyes.

"My turn." Before he could protest, which he had no intention of doing, Servalan was pushing him over, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them. Still acutely aware of his vulnerability whenever she did this, Blake swallowed nervously as one of Servalan's hands gripped his cock, thumb pressing lightly at the tip. She looked thoughtful, her other hand tickling at the heaviness of his balls. He jerked slightly at her teasing touch. Gently, she caressed them and Blake sighed with pleasure. Then all coherent thought was driven from him as his cock was abruptly engulfed, Servalan sucking hard. It was exquisite. Powerful sucking mingled with the threat of teeth, a teasing tongue swirling round the head. He moaned, head tossing, fingers clenched in the sheets. The pressure was building, his body aching for release when Servalan let him go. One finger traced his cock from base to tip, spreading his moisture, a mixture of saliva and pre-cum coating him.

Releasing his death grip on the sheets, he stroked her breasts, stomach, his hands drifting lower, caressing the damp moistness between her thighs. She trembled as his lingers explored her sex. They were both more than ready.

"Mine," she whispered, making Blake shiver at her words. No responsibility, all was given up to her. The rebellion went on without him, Avon still running free with **_Liberator_** _._ He was Servalan's to command.

One hand on his chest, the other around his cock, she rose, lowering herself inch by inch, encasing him deep within her.

"Yes." He gasped. So hot and tight, his hands closed on her thighs, feeling the muscles flex. He tried to thrust, unable to hold back any longer. She thrust down to meet him, both hands on his chest, nails flicking over his nipples. The tightness rose in his balls and he thrust up hard, hands slamming her down to meet him. She gasped, a high-pitched noise, her muscles clenching rhythmically. He thrust once more and came, the contractions of her inner muscles blinding him, milking him dry.

She slowly slid down, pillowing herself on his chest as his arms closed round her. He felt himself slip free as she shifted around, getting comfortable. He was exhausted, drifting off, barely catching her whispered words.

"You'll always be mine."

* * *

A year passed in Servalan's captivity. Blake enjoyed her bed, even enjoyed some of the rougher games she wanted to play. More and more, she discussed problems like the trade dispute with him, encouraging him to suggest solutions, arguing them with him until she had something she considered viable. Blake's mind and body were active and he was at content. Particularly as he followed the increasing rebel activity, though he never mentioned it to Servalan. He occasionally discussed philosophy with her but she rarely contributed to those conversations, usually just listening to him until she grew bored and took him to bed. So he was more than a little surprised when she mentioned Avon. And he told her so.

"If you wanted to contact him, how would you?"

"I wouldn't know how," he lied. "Why do you want to talk to him? A wide-beam message would be picked up."

"I wish the message to be private, between Avon and me." Blake still looked unconvinced so she tugged him over to the couch. "1 think it's time we found a way to work together."

"You and Avon?" Blake was more than a little disbelieving.

"The three of us, Blake. I could care less for Federation policy. As long as I have control we can make policy what we will."

"You think Avon will agree?"

"He wants money, I want power. I think he'd agree with a little persuading." Blake wasn't so sure but he said nothing about that. Avon could take care of himself. His mind was on the rebellion.

"What about the rebel forces?"

"Avalon?" Servalan paused, her head tilted slightly. "That would be up to her. I would offer her the chance to discuss the situation." Blake's eyes narrowed.

"She won't trust you."

"Did you, when you arrived here?" No, Blake mused, I still don't. "What about the code to contact Avon?"

"There was no code." Blake lied smoothly. If Servalan wanted to make a move, she'd have to do it openly.

"I see." She sounded disappointed, but not surprised, as if she was expecting it. Blake watched her get up and walk around to her desk, typing a few lines before returning to him "Time for bed, I think."

Blake relaxed, she couldn't be that upset if she still wanted him in her bed. Shrugging out of his clothes, he slipped under the covers. The lights dimmed and she joined him, teasing him repeatedly before coupling with him. Drained by their activities, he drifted off unaware of the prick of a needle into his arm, or the questions that followed.

When he woke, he drifted hazily, a headache threatening behind his eyes. Dimly, he heard voices, no, one voice, Servalan's.

"Yes, I got the information. No, he didn't volunteer it. I had to use the drug. He should sleep for another hour or so." The voice paused for a few moments. "Yes, I know you told me there were some things he would never do. Shut up, I had hoped...never mind." Another pause. "I think his usefulness may soon be at an end. He won't be persuaded, especially as Avon is about to meet an untimely end. He'd be suspicious."

Blake wanted to shout out, to do something but his mind was so fuzzy, his body unresponsive.

"Are the voice recordings sufficient? Good. That will be all."

Eyes still closed, somehow Blake was aware of Servalan's approach, felt her stroke a hand through his curls.

"You have been delightful and useful.It's a pity that I'd never be able to trust you. Maybe I'll make it easy for you, just let you sleep and never wake. Hmm?"

Filled with horror, Blake could only lie there. He had to do something, warn Avon at least! He felt a faint tug as Servalan's hand slipped free. With her as a hostage, he might have a chance at escape. His mind raced ahead, creating and discarding plans while he waited for his body to recover. When he could finally move, he struggled to his feet, pulling his jumpsuit back on.

Servalan had a high speed flyer, a single pilot model. If she filed a flight plan for one of the outer bases, no one would question it. Back to Jevron, maybe? They would both get on the ship, he in a Federation uniform, and, once in orbit, he could put her in an escape pod. She'd be alive and he'd be free to warn Avon and Avalon. There was no other way, no access to any external communications that were not monitored.

She'd be back soon. Then he'd have his chance.

* * *

"Blake, you're already up." Servalan was surprised but she covered it well, he had to give her that. "I was hoping you'd still be in bed."

"Why? So you could put me to sleep? Permanently." He saw, with a savage pleasure, her face whiten.

"How?"

"You probably miscalculated the dose. I'm a bit bigger than the average male. I heard your little conversation." Before she could reach for her desk alarm. Blake grabbed her.

"You'll do what I say or I'll break your neck. As you well know, I have little to lose."

"You won't escape, if that's what you're thinking."

"I will, unless you want to end up dead." He tightened his grip, one hand circling round her throat. "We're both going on a little trip."

Carefully, he maneuvered them both to the communications console. "File a flight plan for Earth to Jevron for a base inspection. You'll be taking your flyer and a pilot."

Servalan glared angrily at him but did as he requested. "You don't look like a pilot."

"Ah, but you can bring one of your mutoids in here with a uniform for me. Being very careful to tell them that you are going on an inspection and that I will be piloting your ship, of course."

"Of course." She did as he asked and the uniform was delivered. He locked her in the bathroom while he changed clothes. The entire journey to the flight bay was made in silence, his hand never far from her neck.

Getting on board went without a problem, it was almost too easy, putting Blake's nerves on edge. Servalan was also making him uncomfortable. He might hate her for what she had done but his body still had other ideas. He would have to be very alert or else...." Get in there." He gestured Servalan toward the only cabin.

"You can't be serious."

"Deadly. I don't want you here. I might not be able to control myself and I don't really want to hurt you." Her eyes widened as she slipped through the door. Blake sealed it via the main computer, changing its voice recognition at the same time to respond only to his orders. **A** day or two of fast traveling and he could dump his passenger. He'd warn Avon and Avalon and then head for Horizon. Ro had said he'd be welcome and he'd need a new base.

* * *

Still in orbit, Blake watched as the escape pod fell away from the ship. It had an automatic distress signal. The Federation forces on Jevron would pick it up soon enough. Servalan would arrive as per her flight itinerary, just not in her usual style. He smiled faintly. He was free of her and yet not. His body still ached. It always would, she had taunted him, and Blake feared she told the truth.

He took the ship out of orbit, heading for Horizon. When he was clear of the planet, he'd signal Avon and Avalon. Maybe Ro's people might have a solution to the drug. They were experts in poisons, maybe they would have an answer. Maybe the reaction could be transferred or Orac could find a solution. Maybe he was thinking wishfully. Setting the autopilot, he leaned back, closing his eyes.

Had he really wanted it? He left Avon the **_Liberator_** and her crew, he left Avalon the rebellion. Now, he was alone, no responsibilities. Sighing, he sat up and took the controls again. sending out a message in code. "Deva, one bounty hunter seeking a partner. Meet me at our place. Maybe he needed to find out.

* * *

 


End file.
